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Sunday, February 9, 2025

Homeland Of Our Hearts

Homeland Of Our Hearts
© Surazeus
2025 02 09

With every leaf that falls on temple steps 
to measure progress of seasonal change, 
we sit together in the cool tree shade 
to feel strange sorrow of the river flow 
urge our hearts to beat with respectful love 
as we feel our bodies and minds decay. 

I want more bold passion out of this life 
than waiting in dim shadows of the sun 
for Death to flash my soul back to the stars, 
yet I feel paralyzed with shock of fear 
that gang of greedy men with sticks and stones 
chased us from fertile land our fathers tilled. 

We worked soil of this farm two hundred years, 
extracting many wagonsful of ripe wheat 
to bake bread that has fed bodies and souls 
of every family living in this town, 
yet, jealous of our principled success, 
they nursed hate with greed to seize fruitful fields. 

Since we possess knowledge for growing wheat, 
and they know nothing but how to attack, 
we can apply our secret family skills 
to grow wheat anywhere on river shores 
while they will fail and lay waste to our farm, 
proving our legal right of stewardship. 

Though we were driven out with prejudice 
from fields of heaven we tended with care, 
we can build heaven in waste land of hell 
by nurturing seeds with rivulets of hope, 
while their careless greed wastes heaven to hell 
by trashing rich crops with dishonest greed. 

If any divine judge rules in the sky, 
and perceives injustice of harsh abuse 
we suffer from exploiters with cruel hands, 
then heaven will mandate our right of place 
to dwell between the river and the sea 
with creative hands that craft the land well. 

Alas for justice we will never know 
that no omniscient deity in heaven 
has power to adjust slow wheels of fortune 
so fate rewards intentions of our hearts 
to create with faith rather than destroy 
paradise where every person lives well. 

Though we have lost the homeland of our hearts, 
the world, new lit by eager rays of dawn, 
that stretches wide before our hopeful feet, 
offers us endless opportunities 
with generous bounty of indifferent growth 
so we treasure home wherever we roam. 


In Times Of War

In Times Of War
© Surazeus
2025 02 09

In times of war the prophets all come out 
and wander wind-swept streets with tangled hair, 
then, with anguish in their eyes, sing and shout 
about how doom and death are everywhere, 
which causes everyone to be alarmed 
when they would rather be happily charmed. 

While Nostradamus in his ivory tower 
prophesies how every tyrant will fall 
after their sudden rise grasping for power, 
the nameless jester writes spells on the wall 
of church and bank in formulas of fate 
that expose the king for his racist hate. 

Yet everyone keeps driving in their cars 
to earn just enough money to pay bills, 
because fortunes are not defined by stars, 
and no one wants to go back to the hills 
to hunt for mushrooms and rabbits to eat, 
but all are silent when the rich men cheat. 

Though poetry we write with bleeding hands 
makes nothing happen in valley of skulls, 
we blow wind from our mouths across the lands 
that challenge cowboys to wrestle gold bulls 
worshipped by the people as god of wealth 
who steals all their money with sneaky stealth. 

Though Keats admires song of the nightingale 
while lounging under the timeless plum tree, 
I decry how everything is for sale 
by oligarchs who fetter Liberty 
when they invade public Garden of Eden 
and build shopping malls to pave over Heaven. 

Cold raindrops fall through our bodies of dreams 
and blend with endless rivers of our tears, 
then splatter back with mocking Mask of Seems 
which cannot hide our heart-enshrouding fears, 
yet songs we share in darkness of despair 
beam bright at dawn with soul-reviving care. 

For two centuries we built in our land 
strong institutions for free governance, 
but they crumble as castles made of sand, 
destroyed by pirates with no reverence, 
so corporate kings exploit the working poor 
who cry out to the wounded matador. 

In times of war the poets wander lost, 
reciting through domestic quietude 
quaint epiphanies of the Holy Ghost 
to shore dream fragments in false fortitude, 
till mermaid voices wake us in surprise 
so we perform conceptual role as spies. 


Saturday, February 8, 2025

Wisdom Of Dead Stars

Wisdom Of Dead Stars
© Surazeus
2025 02 08

She would confess strange sorrows of her heart 
but Zahara thirsts for laughter of light, 
so she strides boldly through the twilight zone 
to find glowing cave where the demon core 
radiates aggressive wisdom of dead stars, 
transforming wizards to demonic ghouls. 

Hearing endless song of waves on soft shores, 
Zahara runs where the wild river flows 
around crumbling hills where crooked trees grow 
with wordless amusement of the lonely cloud 
that reveals roundness of the world to her 
because the sea unravels happiness. 

Turning away to face cold bitter winds, 
Zahara asks the bright sun in bleak sky 
for mercy in the waste land of despair 
where no shadows shade her soul from hard love 
as she speaks her heart in the heartless gloom 
to the ghost whose blood still sings from the sand. 

Knowing stars may never fall from the sky, 
Zahara cups rain in her grateful hands 
to drink refreshing joy of shattered clouds 
that wash her bitter sorrows to the sea 
which shines in her parallel universe 
with tears from mothers whose sons die in war. 

Unveiling beauty of the desert sky, 
Zahara hides her language in sharp sand 
so she can describe absence of her love 
who folds insouciant silence in his chest 
as she cries out with shock of hungry hope 
to understand salt of the restless sea. 

While asking the sea for names of the dead, 
Zahara wades knee-deep in angry waves 
to search for bodies of children and brides 
who float with anguish in abyss of tears 
till they sprout wings of swans and fly away 
which leaves her alone with the fractured stone. 

Grasping fragments of their ethereal souls, 
Zahara gathers voices of the dead 
to weave them in weird song of lonely faith 
that breathes in beauty and exhales despair 
which fills frail glass of immortality 
from which she drinks sweet juice of ancient trees. 

Embracing luminous phantom of love, 
Zahara places flowers on two graves 
where her mother and father dissipate 
in crumbling sand that sparkles in sunlight, 
then opens hand with seeds of aching loss, 
smiling sadly as the desert lark eats. 


Deaf Devils Of Fate

Deaf Devils Of Fate
© Surazeus
2025 02 08

After swimming in bright river of ghosts, 
Ophelia dries her hair on grassy shore, 
then walks back to town in blue evening glow, 
entranced by whoosh of cars with gold headlights, 
to relax in the Wingless Horse Cafe 
where the deaf devils of fate sing folk songs. 

When Hamlet and Odysseus arrive 
with noisy laughter of entitled boys, 
Ophelia hides her face with subtle grace 
behind thick book of Chinese poetry 
to read of cranes above mountains of mist 
where the deaf devils of fate play jade flutes. 

When Hamlet sees her eating apple pie, 
hair haloed by light of the stained glass window 
showing Keats and Fanny by the plum tree, 
he sits at her table with cheerful grin 
and asks how she has been the past few weeks 
since the deaf devils of fate stole her car. 

Leaning forward to whisper in harsh tone, 
Ophelia inquires why he returned 
all the letters she wrote to him last summer, 
because she burned them on the river shore, 
then requests that he leave her alone now 
though the deaf devils of fate call her name. 

When Hamlet grabs her arm with intense glare, 
Ophelia slips free with notebook and bag, 
and hurries down the street where crickets chirr, 
then sits on park bench by the overpass 
to cradle fragments of her broken heart 
which the deaf devils of fate gave to her. 

When dark figure in shadows of old trees 
approaches her seat in the empty park, 
Ophelia stiffens with urgent fear, 
breathing deep to calm wild beat of her heart, 
till young man with guitar asks where to go 
to join the deaf devils of fate for supper. 

Pointing back at the Wingless Horse Cafe, 
Ophelia stands and prepares to run, 
but pauses when the street musician smiles, 
"My name is Orpheus the Troubadour, 
and I just arrived from Gotham today 
to sing songs with the deaf devils of fate." 

Walking with him back to the bright cafe, 
Ophelia orders two vegeburgers 
and chamomile tea with honey and ginger, 
and smiles bright as he relates his adventures 
hitchhiking from Seattle to Miami 
with the deaf devils of fate in his heart. 


Blankness Of The Sky

Blankness Of The Sky
© Surazeus
2025 02 08

If I should see in blankness of the sky 
face of the girl who knows my secret name 
I will focus attention of my eye 
to translate mysterious code of the game 
humans perform to gain and maintain power 
from mirrored chamber of the hilltop tower. 

When I feel vibes from blankness of the sky 
radiate bright waves of psychic energy 
I search cave of illusions for the Why 
when I strum tunes on lyre of Mercury 
in mental war against tyrant of hate 
who strives in vain against celestial fate. 

Though angels fall from blankness of the sky 
to wander lost as humans on hard Earth 
I hire them all to play the clever spy 
uncovering wealth Midas denies has worth 
in awkward trick of jesting which confounds 
proud fascists strutting stiff on burial mounds. 

I hear voice call from blankness of the sky, 
"Know, phony patriots of America, 
fooled into following the Antichrist, 
King Midas will soon serve wise Onatah 
who rules Zarathia, Land of the Free, 
by enforcing Justice and Liberty." 

Jupiter shines in blankness of the sky 
through noble fight against Pluto the grim, 
leading us to rescue Liberty from plight 
by chanting magic spell in charming hymn 
exposing bullies who lie to deceive 
frightened people who come at last to grieve. 

Lucifer leaps through blankness of the sky 
to conquer the conqueror with just law 
and restore to each soul their civil rights 
bestowed at birth from heart of Onatah 
who washes our souls clean with blood of truth 
through sacrifice of our messiah sleuth. 

Stars disappear from blankness of the sky 
except through far-sight of the telescope 
for which I analyze bright Golden Eye 
that watches how we mortal humans cope 
from crystal palace on high pyramid 
while I map myths in complex psychic grid. 

Because gods play in blankness of the sky, 
through sharp invective of satiric code, 
that cracks the golden mask of tyranny, 
snide jesters mock King Midas and his toad 
to crown Minerva Goddess of the World 
who reigns with justice of the cosmic herald. 


Arrow Of Free Will

Arrow Of Free Will
© Surazeus
2025 02 08

My heart is pierced by arrow of free will 
when I read in newspapers around the world 
stories of people who suffer from wrongs 
committed by criminals blind with hate, 
which spurs me to wear cape of Superman 
and play role of Jesus in world events. 

My heart is burned by arrow of free will 
when the fascist dictator blind with greed 
attempts to overthrow our government, 
then storms the citadel of global power 
to conquer the world and crown himself Christ 
as incarnation of Storm God on Earth. 

My heart is stung by arrow of free will 
when grand institutions of liberal progress 
are bulldozed by aggressive corporate kings 
who seize control over our fiscal fountains 
to steal tax dollars from our working hands 
and fill their thirsty bank accounts with blood. 

My heart is spurred by arrow of free will 
when Midas grabs gold Scepter of Zambor 
and parades in new clothes before the world, 
turning everything he touches to trash 
while leading crusade to conquer the Earth 
and drink blood oil with insatiable thirst. 

My heart is fired by arrow of free will 
when Pluto tries to conquer Scythia 
as old King Jupiter sleeps in Stonehenge 
while Lucifer with sword Excalibur 
guards Liberty who holds the Lamp of Truth 
to lead our fight against his tyranny. 

My heart is fueled by arrow of free will 
when Hidden Dragon from Cave of Illusions 
rises on Phoenix wings from flames of war 
to unite in Anglonesian Empire 
Zarathia, Gothinia, and Russia, 
and guard Elysium from invading hordes. 

My heart is fixed by arrow of free will 
when Cupid fires his Bow of burning gold 
and Odin drives swift Chariot of fire 
so Jesus builds Temple of Solomon 
to rule the world from New Jerusalem 
in glass pyramid city on Mount Zion. 

My heart is healed by arrow of free will 
when Onatah teaches me to plant corn 
and tend Garden of Eden with kind hands 
that unites Babylon and Avalon 
with Oregon in fane on Mount Takoma 
where I play Lyre of Mercury with hope. 


Friday, February 7, 2025

Eyes Of The Laughing Tree

Eyes Of The Laughing Tree
© Surazeus
2025 02 07

Half dead from sorrow of the laughing tree, 
Erick stares at shadow in the Face Pool, 
shocked he resembles old man he once knew 
who vanished in the woods long years ago, 
then grins when the tortoise with stoic eyes 
breaks surface of the pool with haunting silence. 

Concerned for safety of the laughing tree, 
Emzara gathers apples in the woods 
to feed her husband who constructs the ship 
in which he plans to sail the stormy sea, 
till she finds young man staring at his face 
mirrored by the small pool of haunting silence. 

Startled by soft voice of the laughing tree, 
Erick looks up to see in long green gown 
young woman holding basket of ripe fruit 
who smiles and offers apple in her hand, 
so he accepts and stares in sea-blue eyes 
where he sees wild flood of haunting silence. 

While hoping to protect the laughing tree, 
Emzara contemplates mysterious flash 
which reveals all that is wrong with this world, 
but asks young man who guards undoor of time 
if he feels optimistic about fate, 
so he whispers dream spell of haunting silence. 

Eager to map eyes of the laughing tree, 
Erick traces his steps in the waste land 
to record proper path to Wonderland 
where Rapunzel and Richard Lion-Heart 
host global Feast of the Epiphany 
where Orpheus sings hymn of haunting silence. 

Returning to field of the laughing tree, 
Emzara shows the young World Conqueror 
how Jason constructs the swift Argos ship 
with wood stolen from the Temple of Baal 
so he can sail across the storm-wracked sea 
to find Atlantis lost in haunting silence. 

Naming new continent for his old mother, 
Erick builds home-fort by the River Styx 
to store the Golden Fleece he stole from Colchis 
where Anahita pours Dionysian wine 
in the Holy Grail, encrusted with rubies, 
to reveal sacred truth of haunting silence. 

Tending horses in the stall on the ship, 
Emzara watches stars behind rain clouds, 
and calculates days since they left Sumeria 
should bring them to lush shores of Shangdong soon 
where Nuwa welcomes them with open arms 
to feast on pyramid of haunting silence. 


Lantern Of Lost Hope

Lantern Of Lost Hope
© Surazeus
2025 02 07

First key word that opens locked door of thought 
flashes with starlight in shallow Face Pool 
to lure with eerie melody of hope 
blind souls who wander roadless woods of fate 
with lantern of lost hope in trembling hands 
till they vanish in voice of nothingness. 

Carla laughs while she knocks at the locked door 
because no one answers her frantic call, 
so she places her Death Book on the floor, 
then leans gasping for breath against the wall 
with lantern of lost hope in broken heart 
to draw map of her dreams on wyrd star chart. 

Jesse sits on tree stump in rain-wet field 
after chopping Tree of Knowledge with ax 
polished sharp on dragon bones of despair 
to ask the quick sharp-tailed sandpiper why 
with lantern of lost hope in both his eyes 
he cannot see the angel of star fire. 

Carla mumbles that twigs and brambles tear 
hem of her dress as she tromps in dark woods 
to find cave of the television bear 
named Grendel who haunts quiet neighborhoods 
with lantern of lost hope that shimmers gold 
of undulating rays through time-space fold. 

Jesse teaches his clever son David 
how to sling stones with a taut leather strap 
when they go hunting in Broceliande 
where Grendel steals computers from the store 
with lantern of lost hope after midnight 
who mocks young shepherd security guard. 

Carla stops in the quaint white-steepled church 
where old Goliath is mopping the floor 
to ask questions about the Holy Ghost, 
so they sing the twenty-third psalm, and pray 
with lantern of lost hope under the cross, 
then share feelings about maternal loss. 

Jesse finds sandal Eurydice wore 
while dancing to her wedding in Stonehenge, 
and weeps that she will sing and dance no more, 
then sets on her shrine the last sacred orange 
with lantern of lost hope lighting her tomb 
to write obscure prophecy of world doom. 

Carla rides the bus to Elysium 
two seats behind Grendel and Artemis 
who talk about the novel Moby Dick, 
how the White Whale represents hostile Nature 
with lantern of lost hope in his stomach 
where Jonah asks Kwan Yin to marry him. 


Picnics In The Glade

Picnics In The Glade
© Surazeus
2025 02 07

If we could go on picnics in the glade 
by the happy river, just like we used to, 
we could assimilate glow of our hearts 
as lovers lounging in flowers of hope 
that wilts at untold tale of our lost pride, 
deserving pleasure we keep to ourselves. 

Though fungus clings to trunks of fallen trees 
along untrodden trails of mountain glades, 
we could commit our seasons of fresh youth 
to carefree wanderings far from cityscapes 
of relentless busyness to succeed, 
yet how times have changed at the fall of truth. 

Our wordless vanity of hope persists 
in fooling us that all we know as true 
might remain secure as foundation stone 
on which we built our national world view 
that every person breathing air of faith 
deserves fair chance to work with dignity. 

What strenuous agony of desire 
still urges us to fight for what is right 
straight against petulant aggressiveness 
of thieves disguised as honest patriots 
who insist fortune is for them alone, 
according to beatitudes of stones. 

All should inherit fertile land of faith 
without cumbersome shade of blinding greed, 
reflected clear in how the peacock struts, 
but many poor in spirit grasp for power 
where lone angels weep around human graves 
by selling alien merit never earned. 

Being born of Earth, we climb mountain trails 
to transcend social hierarchies of power 
in bid to reclaim opportunities 
for living safely in vast urban zones 
as ours with legal grounds of unproved birth, 
since the moon glares askance at our desires. 

At stark diminution of reserved fate, 
trapped by extent of language unexpired 
through amorous attention of police, 
we claim with bold assertion of respect 
green innocence of deeds ancient gods cause 
humans to perform with penance of rage. 

With curious indictment of bold deeds 
we decide to escape the fascist state 
imposed on institutions disempowered 
by gangs of greedy goons in business suits, 
and walk the signless wilderness of faith 
to picnic in peace in the mountain glade. 


Illusion Of Their Love

Illusion Of Their Love
© Surazeus
2025 02 07

Alert to wings of fire, her heart has flown 
from heavy horror of aggressive fear 
to brood in twisted limbs of that vast tree 
that explodes slowly from soil of despair, 
blinded by illusion of what should be, 
till she breaks free to manage what is real. 

Eager to express with clandestine faith 
secure felicity of fluent force, 
Yasmina laughs with horror of surprise 
at shocking silence of martialized wind, 
cheated by aggressive theft of desire, 
and quivers with compassion to survive. 

Bathed in regressive waves of rancid hope, 
contrived by voices who demand she pray 
with obedient submission, she escapes 
comprehensive strictness of binding laws 
to dance with brittle joy on restless shores 
beyond all bounds of false propriety. 

Duped by delusion of bland liberty, 
she feels was promised by society, 
Yasmina plucks plums from time-twisted tree 
to taste bitter sweetness of claims denied, 
then twirls about on graceful toes of fear 
to hide hard-bitten angst of honesty. 

Though bombs no longer blast her paradise 
to swirling dust of political lies, 
stirred by international promises 
of protection from hate, Yasmina sings 
beautiful hymn to hide anguished despair 
with mercurial voice of resigned respect. 

Fierce soldier wrapped in shield of bitter hate 
for family murdered in the holocaust, 
glares at young girl by the broken plum tree, 
who knows without doubt of religious faith 
he is her loving husband and soulmate 
in some other world of the multiverse. 

With gentle smile that hides terror of pain, 
Yasmina offers Ariel ripe plum 
from tree of her heart, so, behind his mask 
of blinding rage, his heart stirs from dark cave 
to gaze with reverence at her radiant face 
with light that dispels cruel storm of regret. 

With surprise of the angel stuck in Hell, 
Ariel comes to realize with faint hope 
that he has met his soulmate in gray ruins 
of shattered enterprise, and so they build 
in their hearts quaint home with garden of trees 
where they dwell in illusion of their love. 


Thursday, February 6, 2025

Secret Country Johania

Secret Country Johania
© Surazeus
2025 02 06

They all gather under the sprawling elm 
to share stories about the falling star 
that shines as beacon in the misty night 
to light the road their feet have yet to blaze 
across the windy meadow to the lake 
where the old woman laughs till they all die. 

When the stout man in the long leather coat 
arrives with bag of apples for them all, 
they ask about the country he came from, 
so John explains his land is made of birds 
who like to drop acorns on river shores 
where they all fall asleep just before dawn. 

Hands pressed in crimson mud of wordless fear, 
Johanna looks up through long twisted limbs 
the sprawling elm reaches up to grasp the moon 
which smiles at her through flashing swirl of clouds, 
reluctant to accept the final end 
where lovers embrace in shadow of hope. 

Our shadows merge in one soft gleam of light, 
she wonders when she stands on dizzy Earth, 
embarrassed by compassion she conceals 
from people speaking endless streams of sound 
that never resolve into clear concepts 
which formulate bony light of the moon. 

With sudden flash of insight made of rain, 
Johanna grins with laughter of success 
that she will build from fractured light of time 
new world of peaceful joy from guilty love, 
designed as emblem of the optimist 
that quivers weirdly on the muddy shore. 

Because our moon will never disappear, 
though it waxes and wanes on rainbow hill, 
she asks her shadow hidden in the elm 
why people always die and vanish blank 
as absence of their souls she yearns to see, 
liquid water that curls around her legs. 

Only the Orphean Warbler of fate 
ever answers her desperate query of hope, 
so she opens her hands to offer seeds, 
and stands still with eternity of faith 
while he hops on her arm with casual trust 
at joyful sparkle of her silver eyes. 

I will name my secret country Johania, 
Johanna giggles while she twirls around, 
delighting in how her skirt becomes wings, 
and though she cannot fly high she pretends, 
then everyone under the sprawling elm 
cheers and claps when she dances beyond death. 


Something Seems To Become

Something Seems To Become
© Surazeus
2025 02 06

Something seems to fall somewhere for some time. 
Someone asks somebody about something 
and they reply with some words about why. 
Somewhere someone else now goes nowhere else. 
The angel of death walks on the sea shore 
and talks to the shadow with wordless thought. 

Tangled vines heavy with grapes hang on poles. 
The girl talks nonsense words to the blind tree 
about why clouds erase shadows of light. 
She dwells at the beginning of the end. 
She asks if she is who she thinks she is 
and listens to no one ever respond. 

She puts blank books on the library shelf 
where no one reads them till the end of time. 
When anyone asks her about her name 
she smiles and pretends they can understand. 
Something floats past her face with ancient wings. 
She wonders why she cannot see her face. 

Wheels spin in flashing ecstasy of thought. 
No one believes they are the one robot 
who understands human nature the best. 
She points her finger to reveal the west 
where the sun bleeds into the desert waste. 
Something acquires value when it gets bought. 

Something seems to become more real than real. 
She refuses to explain how she feels. 
Someone asks her if she wants to return 
so she stands somewhere else just for some time. 
Everyone sees her shadow on the ground 
disappear each time clouds bring silent rain. 

She runs somewhere for some time to explore 
some place where she has never been before. 
Everywhere encloses somewhere in walls 
designed to make things seem invisible. 
Else she backtracks on signless road to show 
everyone why she is someone they love. 

He stands somewhere and thinks about someone 
who is doing something to become real. 
She gives him photograph of his real face 
but he decides he is sure it is fake. 
She gives him bones of children time devoured 
to prove she understands nothing at all. 

With minimal effort of divine breath 
she speaks to everyone about how death 
will erase everyone from light of time. 
Something seems to appear before her eyes 
so she reaches out and touches the mask. 
She wonders why she is nobody else. 


Green Eye Of Faith

Green Eye Of Faith
© Surazeus
2025 02 06

Imaginary life of sunlit trees 
transforms my garden into metaphor 
for memories of my childhood in my heart 
preserved as fruit transformed from wordless dirt 
by green blood flowing in its heartless trunk 
so I perceive this world with green eye of faith. 

Green limes on twisted limbs at midnight flash 
when joyful thunderstorms drench Earth in rain 
to spark life from barren waste land that makes 
indifferent Nature seem most generous 
with bountiful gifts we humans accept 
when we offer prayers with green eye of faith. 

Complex spectrum of feeling, we design 
to be accessible with social code, 
helps us determine state of mental health 
which reprograms our national world view 
to learn lessons of life from tragedy 
ordaining plain truth with green eye of faith. 

Contriving panorama for new grief, 
relevant to political respect 
that expands bright insight in human nature, 
we attend progress of garden estates 
where vital crops bloom in meadows of hope 
based on harmony with green eye of faith. 

To meditate in theater of time 
we enter cave of illusions and dream 
patterns for eternal forms of ideas 
embodied within bounds of time and space 
by growth and decay of material bodies 
for precise structures with green eye of faith. 

Exquisite beauty of eternal forms 
manifest in material bodies, flawed 
with variations of special design, 
inspires my heart to expand conscious view 
of Earth within our vast cosmology 
in wholeness perceived with green eye of faith. 

Unbleached experience of this complex world 
programs ultimate mirror of weird truth 
with flexible categories of thoughts 
that distort primal sensations with art 
which duplicates particulars from laws 
through apprehension with green eye of faith. 

Imaginary life of unsplit stones 
contains eternal beauty in bright gems 
hidden inside skull of Leviathan 
who crawls up river of perceptive facts, 
evolving from fish into wingless angel 
who speaks language spells with green eye of faith. 

Ritual Of Remembrance

Ritual Of Remembrance
© Surazeus
2025 02 06

To perform ritual of remembrance well 
in quiet darkness of the window light 
we hide our sorrows in clear candle flame 
reflected in clean mirror of our hearts 
that shines shocked with unpredictable will 
encased in pearl of wisdom we must share. 

Through miraculous constancy of faith 
we try to merge opposing force of will 
in swirled cooperation of respect 
that maps conceptual landscape of our love 
where bounds of our alien countries meet 
as sunlight in small raindrop on frail leaf. 

With accidental verve of vital hope 
I ascend spiral staircase of sunbeams, 
built on associations of key thoughts, 
that rises from substantial well of dreams 
which dissipate as mist in morning light 
so I hold crumbles of dirt in my hands. 

Enormous dragon rising from deep sea 
grips silver Saturn rocket in sharp claws 
while trundling clumsily across soft sand 
to explore Euclidean complexity 
of brains that generate Realm of Ideas 
where anything we think is possible. 

Our eyes can measure with alacrity 
of cheerful love for our indifferent world 
impossible curves of light rays that beam 
from ancient stars so far away in space 
they all burned out millions of years ago 
though they still twinkle in our empty sky. 

Entangled in sunlight of swirling waves, 
we dream beginning of our carbon souls 
connecting through genetic coils of hope 
in bubbling flash of hydrothermal vents 
to map our quest four hundred million years 
evolving from fish into wingless angel. 

Bored of hot timeless heat on sandy beach, 
we clash two rocks with rhythmic attitude, 
and laugh with startled delight when bright sparks 
of fallen stars erupt in graceful flames 
which we obtain to transform soil of Earth 
in vast network of computing machines. 

Clear questions of desire could clarify 
distorted assumptions of hungry hope 
when we communicate needs we fulfill 
as we seek mate to generate new life 
so we continue reproducing souls 
as long as Earth teems with organic life. 


Wednesday, February 5, 2025

Alchemy Of Sorrow

Alchemy Of Sorrow
© Surazeus
2025 02 05

When I hear you call my name in the gloom, 
mercurial Hermes with eyes of weird stars, 
I follow echo of your voice through woods 
to where you hold the bright sun in your hands, 
flame of fire encased in hard diamond gem, 
so I can learn your alchemy of sorrow. 

Though you are unknown to the world today, 
mercurial Hermes with deft crafty hands, 
I feel your spirit shining in my heart 
which animates my quest around the world 
to sing of strange beauty in human hearts, 
souls transformed by your alchemy of sorrow. 

Though I try not to be frightened by you, 
mercurial Hermes with eagle-wing arms, 
I dance with your excessive energy 
of prophetic charm on the White House lawn 
to show how Midas will fall in disgrace 
corrupted by your alchemy of sorrow. 

Though you reveal how our empire will rise, 
mercurial Hermes with pentecostal tongue, 
I chant hermetic spells of social change 
exposing how Midas with purblind greed 
mutates gold paradise to iron hell 
by perverting your alchemy of sorrow. 

Since you call me with ardor of deep faith, 
mercurial Hermes with clandestine plan, 
I build huge temple on celestial shore 
to preserve your mad prophet Baudelaire 
beside your corpse where worshippers can pray 
for secrets from your alchemy of sorrow. 

When you teach me dream code to program fate, 
mercurial Hermes with Sophian wand, 
I wake bold courage in my frightened heart 
to challenge Midas wearing Crown of Thorns 
for strength to rule Zarathian Empire 
which I build with your alchemy of sorrow. 

When I sense your bright presence everywhere, 
mercurial Hermes with Charonian boat, 
I sail across the wild Atlantic Ocean 
to find Gothinia under Irminsul 
who gives me Book of Wisdom she composed 
where she records your alchemy of sorrow. 

Since you assign me monumental task, 
mercurial Hermes with Helmet of Hope, 
I reunite with Sermon on Mount Zion 
fractured nations of Romulus and Jesus 
when I make Anglonesia great again, 
fused with love through your alchemy of sorrow. 


Glimmer Of Weird Fate

Glimmer Of Weird Fate
© Surazeus
2025 02 05

Though all the rivers of the world run dry 
and rain never falls again from the sky, 
Sylphus will cry when he hears the sweet tune 
Rhea sings while she dances by the moon 
in long gown that flutters in the soft breeze 
long after she died in the winter freeze. 

While Philomela on the river shore 
sings with nightingales by the temple door, 
Lupa boils rabbit stew on the hot stove, 
and twin wolf boys play in the apple grove, 
roving in the forest of seven hills 
to play with wolves along the sparkling rills. 

Lounging outside mossy Lupercal cave, 
Tiberinus dips hand in river wave 
to clean each fig he plucks from the broad tree, 
then chuckles when he sees wolf boys leap free 
and dance around him, flapping arms like wings, 
till he gives them his special magic rings. 

When they lie together under bright stars, 
the old river god tells them about Mars, 
their father who guards their spirits from harm 
with magic radiance of the golden charm, 
and sent Faustulus to raise them with care, 
till they sleep with red flowers in their hair. 

Racing in the woods in shadows of faith, 
Sylphus protects twin boys from hidden wraith, 
keeping them safe when they fish in the stream, 
and grinning amused when they drink milk cream 
till Lupa chases them from the sheep pen 
but sighs resigned when they sneak in again. 

Leaping from temple on the river shore, 
where Saturnus strums lyre inside the door, 
Romulus and Remus race in the vale 
around in circles on the forest trail, 
running to the top of the Palatine 
then down and back up the steep Aventine. 

Gasping for breath and laughing with respect, 
they enter Lupercal cave to inspect 
large diamond that glitters in rocky wall, 
amazed by strange glow of the waterfall, 
then run to temple where Saturnus draws 
letters in spells that describe the first cause. 

Turning surprised at glimmer of weird fate, 
Remus sees Juturna step through the gate, 
so he offers her red rose of his heart, 
and blushes when she puts it on her cart, 
which he pulls to spend more time by her side, 
then he kneels and asks her to be his bride. 


Rage Of Lost Centuries

Rage Of Lost Centuries
© Surazeus
2025 02 05

The sea is still cold with oblivion, 
hurling waves with rage of lost centuries 
at ground of truth we always believed in, 
but no real path in the world is ever straight, 
so I set object of my life to reach 
distant hills that are exploding again. 

For over one hundred years of hope now 
our world of cities mushrooming from death 
has been flaring with rockets of ambition 
that shatter cathedrals and mosques to dust 
for they were propped up with deceptive lies 
that cannot protect our souls from the truth. 

Red hyacinths of winter mornings burn 
with frantic music of aggressive birds 
that follow refugees in the waste land 
who clap their hands and stomp on empty graves 
because the last soldier to die in war 
gave up attempting to write songs of love. 

When banks and cathedrals of futile faith 
stand empty along busy city streets, 
we know the angels who came a long way 
hold solid anguish of doom in their hands 
after wandering in helpless woods with Death 
while deciding what action to perform. 

Bright bells of noon can no longer be heard 
across the campuses of higher learning 
where scholars write formulas of despair 
with blood of angels on vanishing walls 
that defeat is no word the young accept 
when they go searching for the Promised Land. 

The heart that gathers honest loneliness 
sinks into swirling ocean of false words, 
so we return from wilderness of lies 
with nothing but the truth in open hands, 
determined to build from ruins of faith 
world empire based on liberty for all. 

Dark evening gives bright river to our eyes 
so we all follow our own river home, 
yet gather confused on the ocean shore 
all nations of the Earth in restless crowd 
to seek guidance in our indifferent stars 
till the darkness tells us how to behave. 

Justice wears one single face of respect 
composed of every face we humans wear 
as we proclaim in court of honest tales 
we are the heroes of each judgment case, 
yet when I observe the whole human race 
I see myself in every nameless face. 


Weird Immortal Hope

Weird Immortal Hope
© Surazeus
2025 02 05

Each star that flashes in the telescope 
illuminates old river of desire 
from which the fruit tree drinks electric tears 
so we taste bitter sweetness of this life 
each hour our souls flower from the blind stone 
to become new window of the Star Mind. 

So, when the stone of weird immortal hope 
extends roots down to center of the world, 
we wake from agony of hope for love, 
bodies composed of vibrant chemicals 
that fractalize through spirals of desire 
to channel god soul in our liquid bones. 

Arranging stones in circle over dirt, 
Leticia waters seeds of herbs and flowers 
that blossom from moist soil of her sad heart 
as they transform into library shelves 
where birds fold wings into pages of books 
that record tale of every conscious soul. 

As non-believer in the faceless god, 
whose shadow looms in clouds above the world, 
Leticia exits empty church of skulls 
where shadows of angels play hide and seek 
till stones crack open at soft lightning strikes 
to reveal pure light of eternity. 

Uncertain whir of gloom in sudden smoke, 
that deviates from her unconfirmed flight plan 
with graceful thrust across slick lake of ice, 
motivates response Leticia conceals 
with gentle smile of constant innocence, 
lost in humming darkness of mute dawn. 

Holding herself still in sparkles of snow, 
Leticia studies with inherent faith 
four snow buntings that chirp on the barbed wire 
about enchanting beauty of the moon 
which shines regardless of fierce politics 
that defines how men clash to control wealth. 

Sweet scent of honeysuckles after rain 
invites Leticia to analyze pain 
reflecting her face in the garden pool 
where she sees vision of houses on fire 
though nothing so dire is happening now, 
she assures herself because birds still chirp. 

Gazing through the telescope of false faith, 
Leticia calculates future events 
based on how planets glitter in the sky, 
wondering what empire of wealth will replace 
vibrant democracy of rolling stones 
which sprout into trees inside prison walls. 


Tuesday, February 4, 2025

Hyacinths In Moonlight

Hyacinths In Moonlight
© Surazeus
2025 02 04

Pungent scent of hyacinths in moonlight 
veils her heart with swirling mist of desire 
so she walks through every room in the house 
to light tall candles with flickers of pain 
that dance in boisterous gusts of silver rain 
so green shoots thrust from urgency of love. 

Each break of sorrow from apple tree limbs 
extracts from silence murmur of strange voice 
expressing love for still relentless time 
till she stops suddenly before fake door 
that wears mask of someone she thinks she knows 
if she can steal their name from gust of wind. 

Concerned about destruction of the hall 
where his grandfather Goliath lies dead, 
Grendel scoops chess pieces in leather bang 
and walks endless beach of sugar-white sand 
where footsteps of Erendira preserve 
pools of black blood from broken hearts of angels. 

On bomb-blasted ruins of ancient homes 
in Garden of Eden, scattered for miles 
as heaps of broken memories and hopes, 
Grendel builds enormous estate of glass 
where she wanders huge empty rooms of hope, 
adjusting frequency of her brainwaves. 

Marked by sapphires of the infinite sky, 
Grendel brings herbs to her garden estate, 
burned down by gang of wolves with serpent eyes, 
to prove he loves her more than life itself 
while they float on their backs in the sad lake 
and plot how to paint shadows of the mind. 

With promise of regressive sovereignty, 
she scatters sunlight and rain on the soil 
where random seeds sprout into temple halls 
composed of trees that intertwine their limbs 
to imitate puzzle of Gordian knots 
professional enough to hang their god. 

Erendira tosses mirror of fate 
in dirt of atoms where it crawls away 
as laughing turtle of the uncrowned prince 
who insists he is Grendel recompiled 
by computer code that allows state thieves 
to access secret messages of seers. 

Through limited range of murderous words 
Grendel expresses his passionate love 
for innocent Erendira who sleeps 
while stars sprout into grapevines of desire 
where new hymns sung by the celestial choir 
contribute to rise and fall of respect. 


Lifetimes Of Arcane Truth

Lifetimes Of Arcane Truth
© Surazeus
2025 02 04

The most important concept of all time 
that he could say with words upon his tongue 
chokes his soul with fraught anguish of despair, 
so he carves bitter curse on church brick wall 
with holy blood from his dream-crippled hand 
to prove his innocence to the glass moon. 

Descending holy mountain of black smoke 
with fractured tablets carved with divine words, 
he struts before blind people of the land 
to show them beauty in the crystal sand, 
then steals the beautiful dreams of their hearts 
yet leaves them praising his name with respect. 

Through liquid shadows of colorful fears 
time slithers across smeared mirror of fate 
in measured deformation of sweet lies 
when he expresses doubt about plain facts 
that crush television screens into sugar 
which sweetens deception of honest faith. 

With blindness of Nature reflecting hope, 
reticent to accept bold deference, 
he perceives ingratitude of dark debt 
unsheathed by grasping hands of idol masks 
asleep all winter under frozen dirt 
which hinders success of untempered plans. 

Wild energy of aggressive desire, 
by nature trenchant with excessive hope, 
inspires his purpose to regain the sky 
with distinct keenness of separate instincts 
considered too wealthy for the fecund chill 
still crippling children with pity from Death. 

Alarmed by fluid definitions, stuck 
in restless landscape of unsteady flight, 
he glances back at disappearing roads 
replaced by twilight of abandonment, 
unfit for romantics who ignore how 
fate suspends our bodies with taut contempt. 

Windows effaced with shadows of suspense, 
accessory to contemptible crimes, 
he almost understands mystery of Zen 
inhaling hollow strictness of disgust 
without moderation through equity, 
tangible only to sensitive minds. 

Safe under canopy of the fruit tree, 
undistracted by whiteness of the bridge 
across which spirits float on wingless breath, 
he ponders why all conscious entities 
accumulate lifetimes of arcane truth 
which all vanishes at hour of our death. 


Terrible Angel Of Light

Terrible Angel Of Light
© Surazeus
2025 02 04

While she strolls in the busy shopping mall 
Gretel drops bread crumbs to mark out her trail, 
but wanders listlessly with hungry angst 
through endless winding corridors of glass 
past computers and fashionable clothes 
till she stops alone on the windy plain. 

Entering round tent of green embroidered silk, 
Gretel dons long gold silk gown and silver tiara, 
then sits on red velvet cushion at oak desk, 
picks up the quill from feather of the swan, 
dips it in pot of black ink, and begins 
to write lines of verse about love and trust. 

The Raven that followed trail of bread crumbs, 
devouring memories she left on the ground, 
enters the tent with gust of mountain wind, 
and transforms into tall elegant man 
wearing black pants and jacket with red tie, 
then bows and places emerald in her hand. 

Teleported in blinding flash of light, 
Gretel finds herself in white linen gown 
pushing large cart piled with dirty bed sheets 
inside huge brick Magdalene laundry house, 
and thinking about the cute baby boy 
they took away from her after his birth. 

Determined to escape harsh slavery, 
Gretel punches the guard and takes their gun, 
then aims it at director in blue suit 
who trembles as she snatches his car keys, 
then cries in anguish as she drives long road 
winding along the rocky Irish shore. 

Arriving at small town in misty cove, 
Gretel follows shimmering fairy wings 
till she stands before quaint bookstore cafe 
where her long-lost son with pert ponytail 
and hipster beard cooks vegetarian meals, 
then sings Irish ballads while playing guitar. 

Bringing plate of food every afternoon 
to the old homeless woman on the bench, 
Brian chats with her about life and such, 
listening to her wild tales of teenage years 
attending vanlife renaissance festivals, 
amazed at sparkle of joy in her eyes. 

Wading out into surging ocean waves, 
Gretel stretches both arms up to the sky 
and shouts that joy at tragedy of life, 
then floats down into silence of the sea 
where she sees terrible angel of light 
bear her aching body to mindless stars. 


Warning Of The Wolf

Warning Of The Wolf
© Surazeus
2025 02 04

When they decide to meet beside the sea 
and throw all their sorrows in sunless deeps, 
they fall asleep under the rowan tree 
among flowers where the grasshopper leaps 
so their hearts break not when the empire falls 
at relentless dance of porcelain dolls. 

Yet when they hear eerie hoot of the owl 
they wake in moonlight by the shining pool, 
startled by grim figure in long black cowl 
who smiles and suggests they return to school 
so they are ready when the empire falls 
to sell homemade crafts in the market stalls. 

Strange shadow of the star-eyed seraphim 
looms over busy market just at noon 
when Rapunzel in the tower sings hymn 
to wake psychotic demon of the moon 
who declares the empire will rise again 
at cheerful tweeting of the crazy wren. 

They hide their feelings in the polished box 
which Pandora brought as their wedding gift, 
so when she gives birth to the nine-tailed fox 
he wanders lost in the mountain snow drift 
to deny the empire will rise again 
through analysis of his bloody pen. 

Fooled by Rasputin that their plan is strong, 
King Midas and Duke Golfindel play golf 
with heads of departments who chose the wrong, 
but they fail to heed Warning of the Wolf 
who howls distraught at fall of our empire 
while we cope and join the heavenly choir. 

Bowing to Pluto on his Kremlin throne, 
Midas offers him the Treasury Key, 
but Oil King gives Orange Clown broken bone, 
so he chops down the Eden garden tree 
so no one eats at fall of our empire 
except his propaganda versifier. 

Weeping at funeral of America 
while Liberty lies imprisoned by Greed, 
the Lost People cry out to Onatah 
who gives everyone her magic corn seed, 
then comforts us our empire will not die 
for Icarus will teach us how to fly. 

From burned ruins of smoking Babylon 
rival tribes of Zarathia unite 
to build new nation based on Avalon 
where every person shares the equal right 
to live free in world empire of the why 
saved from destruction by the nameless spy. 


Monday, February 3, 2025

Music Of The Star Mind

Music Of The Star Mind
© Surazeus
2025 02 03

Awakened by music of the Star Mind 
that chimes alarmingly soft in night wind, 
Zara glides on beach of the moon-white sea 
to listen for faint voices of the dead 
who whisper their names in forgotten song 
that only she can hear in tweets of larks. 

When silver jet with angelic wings glides 
across dark evening sky of the Star Mind, 
Zara hides under branches of the cypress 
to blank her face invisible to Death, 
but shivers when she feels his burning eyes 
regard her fragile soul with mocking grin. 

"This plum tree that blooms on the river shore 
might be the tree where Eve ate of the fruit, 
so I too will consume pure Plum of Truth 
to gain arcane wisdom of the Star Mind," 
Zara whispers while tasting sweet despair 
to savor strangeness of still being alive. 

"Though bombs no longer blast our garden homes, 
I still feel explosions of naked light 
flash my eyes blind with terror at false hope," 
Zara tries to explain to the Star Mind 
that stares at her from the dark evening sky, 
"but I forgot how to sing about love." 

Breathing deep innocence of the Star Mind 
with bold intensity of cautious hope, 
Zara hums melody of ocean waves 
that glitter on the shore of spongy sand 
where her footsteps capture puddles of tears 
that vibrate in harmony with her heart. 

"I perceive in mirror of the Star Mind 
honest compassion Faceless God designed 
as shining beacon of conceptual faith 
that guides me on Way of the Cosmic Wraith 
across the waste land of ignorant greed 
to paradise where I plant this fruit seed." 

Ghosts of soldiers emerge from the Star Mind, 
surrounding her safe cypress tree with guns, 
and hollow Voice of Death declares with doom, 
"We must destroy this Messenger of Peace 
for she is destined to found world religion 
that merges all religions in new faith." 

Trembling in terror at the Voice of Doom, 
Zara stands and walks barefoot in the sand 
toward ghosts of soldiers clutching guns of fear, 
and with enchanting song of timeless love 
dispels them with music of the Star Mind 
that flows in waves of truth across the land. 


Readjust Her Mind

Readjust Her Mind
© Surazeus
2025 02 03

Since she would rather not face death today, 
Kathy walks backward through the relocked door 
to hide her memories in the broken box 
that floats away on river of mute tears, 
in vain attempt to readjust her mind 
to flow in harmony with social norms. 

Having got lost in the maze of desire 
that always changes unexpectedly 
based on each random decision she makes, 
Kathy stops and waits in the doorless room 
for the ship that never arrives in port 
with the book she ordered from the blind priest. 

Startled by strange song of the butterfly 
that echoes in Grand Canyon of her heart, 
Kathy tries to answer the telephone 
that keeps ringing no matter what she says, 
though horses on the reservation run 
with flapping of the flag in desert wind. 

Yellow orioles in magnolia trees 
discuss opposing world philosophies 
to figure out which one presents true keys 
Kathy can use when she tries to unlock 
cathedral doors before the meteor hits 
our world to break illusion of the heart. 

With teeming excess of unwinding thoughts, 
that pulse vibrantly against strict constraints 
of social convention bound with dream laws, 
Kathy recites endless spell of respect 
to figure out how disasters occur 
so she can safely guide our ship of state. 

Wrecked on time-shifting shore of the new world 
where children dance on pyramids of skulls, 
Kathy walks along timeless beach of faith 
to find the tall Statue of Liberty 
half-buried in the sand of endless change 
at the smell of butter on toasted bread. 

Accessing computer system at dawn 
that controls payments from the Treasury, 
Kathy calculates how much it will cost 
to rebuild infrastructure of the state 
destroyed by greed of hungry oligarchs 
who still attempt to enslave everyone. 

Driving her children to school every day 
where they learn to become good citizens 
who work hard with hope and obey the law, 
Kathy wears her blue police uniform 
to enforce social law of self-control 
till thief she obstructs shoots her in the head. 


Sunday, February 2, 2025

Sea Of Star-Souls

Sea Of Star-Souls
© Surazeus
2025 02 02

When the comet retrieves time from the sun 
to besiege lush globe with colors of fear, 
Tethys draws circle on eye of the stone 
with blood of hope that drips between her legs 
to connect her shadow with words of faith 
from throbbing passion of her tingling breast. 

Moving her face close enough for her cheek 
to brush soft pomegranate blossoms, red 
as blood that smears the insides of her thighs, 
Tethys cracks thick fruit open with sore hands, 
and sucks sweet fruit that drips onto her breast 
till her hands are sticky with happy angst. 

Wind blows fire smoke around in frantic gusts 
of aching passion as she hugs herself, 
then chuckles to imagine she has wings 
long as those the swan stretches up to clouds, 
and feels herself shudder as the swan flaps 
angelic apprehension of moonlight. 

Flopping over on the salty beach sand, 
Tethys stretches her arms and legs outward 
with anguished groan of pleasure to express 
compassion for unbearable regret 
to embrace the sun with writhing contempt, 
body defiled by desire of the wind. 

Gushing Spring of her heart releases flash 
of energetic rainbow after rain 
splashes her breasts of mountainous respect 
for subtle arrogance of folded forms 
when she becomes excessive weight of time, 
then Tethys sits upright again and sighs. 

When Glaucus returns with large fish he caught, 
and sits to roast it over crackling flames, 
Tethys brushes his arm with tender fingers, 
"You filled my heart with spirit of your eyes 
so now your soul incarnates in my womb 
in child that combines our souls in new soul." 

Gasping with pleasure of wide open eyes, 
Glaucus kisses her mouth and pats her belly, 
then gives her leather bag of apple juice, 
so she drinks while he tears strips of burnt fish 
then puts them in her open mouth and grins, 
"Now you must eat for both you and our child." 

Pointing to comet that streaks in the sky, 
Tethys declares, "New spirit of our child 
is coming to us from Sea of Star-Souls," 
then lies down, belly full of food and juice, 
while Glaucus cuddles her with warm embrace, 
and they savor pleasure of being alive. 


Desolation Of The Mind

Desolation Of The Mind
© Surazeus
2025 02 02

When I reach desolation of the mind, 
Glaucus ponders while floating in the sea, 
my spirit is revived by song of sirens 
who call me with weird language wind designed 
so I declare with laughter I am free 
from conceptual angst of fearful environs. 

Yet when I hear my thoughts inside my head 
rambling with random conclusions of fate, 
I wonder what false logic I contrive 
to prove my bravery can dispel this dread 
that hovers over me with wordless hate 
when I ask Glow Cloud how I can survive. 

When I was young and running on the beach 
my father always spoke to me of ways 
that he employs as rituals to catch fish, 
yet now his faceless spirit out of reach 
speaks to me from Glow Cloud in misty haze 
as if he dreams inside my secret wish. 

Though he is gone, long crumbled into sand, 
his voice speaks from my mouth in his same words, 
so now his spirit glows inside my flesh 
with angry passion vibrant with this land 
where I roam wild and sing with hostile birds 
through taut concern entangled in vast mesh. 

When bright sun bleeds on mountains in the west 
and soft shy moon nests on thick bed of pines, 
I rise from ocean wave with strength of hope 
to blaze secret trail on clandestine quest 
in dusk-dim forest where no sad star shines 
to rest in my cave on steep meadow slope. 

Long evening shimmer of motionless time 
enshrouds my aching body with soft hum, 
so I smile at Glow Cloud who watches me 
with unseen face of my father at chime 
of smooth crystals that calculate the sum 
of memories I leave floating on the sea. 

Half asleep in dim gleam of early night, 
I sense ghost of my father sitting near 
whose voice relates fierce battle of respect 
he fought with savage dragon of sunlight 
too many days to count from jagged fear 
with wounded pride his laughter must correct. 

Awake with startled anguish of concern, 
Glaucus strides back down to the ocean beach 
to catch writhing sea serpent with sharp spear, 
then roasts it on hot flames so death can learn 
that he shall claim her treasures beyond reach, 
because this world is one huge spinning sphere. 


Labyrinth Of Pandora

Labyrinth Of Pandora
© Surazeus
2025 02 02

Dust on the cracked window of the wood house 
distorts dim shadow of late afternoon 
to speckle light on blank walls of desire, 
imperfect reflection twisting soft words 
in metal hangers reluctant to show 
what illusions stiff doors pretend to hide. 

Inestimably wonderful gift of fear 
slithers softly under locked doors of hope 
to erode silence with steady despair 
unrelated to arrogance of old books 
where ghosts of heroes lie in unread words 
to never flutter curtains stained with blood. 

If Achilles leads his time-crippled horse 
through labyrinth of Pandora to conceal 
innocent anguish of broken road signs, 
he might remember why his mother smells 
like ripe cantaloupe on silver beach sand 
each time he reaches out his startled hand. 

Washing porcelain plates in metal sink, 
Pandora hums while sparrows in elms tweet, 
wipes hands dry on apron of faithfulness, 
then sets cup of coffee with careful hands 
on round table by the leather armchair 
where Achilles reads news about the war. 

Cupping her hips with his spear-hurling hand, 
Achilles pulls Pandora on his lap 
and nibbles her ear under curly hair, 
then whispers, "My heart swells with pleasant love 
that I chose calm domestic life with you 
than painful death for everlasting fame." 

"Better to serve in Heaven of your heart," 
Achilles moans as his strong hands explore 
secrets of her soul, "than to reign in Hell 
with lots of angry men instead of you." 
Pandora gasps as he opens her box 
and fills her emptiness with beams of light. 

Holding hands and blushing with sweet romance, 
Achilles and Pandora stroll together 
down busy market streets past vendor stalls, 
laugh as they try on sunglasses and hats, 
then eat noodles with eggs while children watch 
Proteus presenting cute puppet shows. 

While they are watching bright fireworks display, 
Achilles feels prick of pain in his heel 
and stares at Paris as he slips away 
who stabbed him with sharp needle on his boot, 
then falls and writhes in agony from poison 
in arms of Pandora who cries in shock. 


New State Of Penury

New State Of Penury
© Surazeus
2025 02 02

Each day the dream mirror falls off the wall 
Jamin decides not to answer the call 
but sits in front yard of his house instead 
to count the dead leaves that cover his head 
so when thieves infiltrate the treasury 
he laments our new state of penury. 

Since children throw eggs at the White House door 
angels never make ice cream anymore, 
so Jamin salutes Death with red right hand 
to prove his right to own the blood-soaked land 
where flowers bloom from skulls of ancient gods 
while devils race each other in hot rods. 

Somewhere over the rainbow of false hope 
Jamin teaches teenagers how to cope 
with the fascist coup of the government 
so they learn skill of psychic puzzlement 
while riding carousel of politics 
by parsing honesty with parlor tricks. 

With close observance of the faceless clock, 
which watches him from surface of the rock, 
Jamin seeks to analyze state of being 
derived from maladjustment of his wing 
twisted by contempt for orthodox law 
till he wakes in shock at the raven caw. 

Each wild dramatic scene of misty vales, 
that he observes on lonely mountain trails, 
inspires mad Jamin with fantastic jokes 
he preaches on stage to expose the hoax 
of thieves to replace our democracy 
with corrupt greed of their oligarchy. 

With fiery admonition in his voice 
Jamin shouts everyone must make the choice 
to fight for justice and equality 
or lose their right to honest liberty, 
but no one hears him on the radio 
erased by laughter at his cameo. 

Mute for years under fig tree of insight, 
Jamin gazes entranced at divine light 
that gleams from Morning Star of dreamless eyes 
in trance that confuses government spies 
who abdicate to join his grand crusade 
when he leads the Revolution Parade. 

Hanging the dream mirror back on the wall, 
Jamin restores government protocol 
that should prevent one man driven by greed 
from controlling institutional creed, 
so though Midas destroys America 
we build new nation of Zarathia. 


Saturday, February 1, 2025

Singer Of Tales

Singer Of Tales
© Surazeus
2025 02 01

Though sometimes in the timeless light of faith 
I seem not to know who I really am, 
I look back on signless road of my life 
to map adventure of my hidden path 
which shows progress of my journey toward hope, 
elusive star that lead me to myself. 

Though I cannot keep pace with my own star, 
which I decided is my guiding light 
as beacon chosen randomly from chart 
of constellated fate, I mold my heart 
with wings I found in wild Icarian Sea 
floating in pool of energetic blood. 

Inspired by weird complex ontology 
of imaginary vision, supplied 
by fairy tales compiled in holy books, 
I pluck apple of wisdom from the Tree 
of Knowledge that blooms from the corpse of God 
to taste the truth that everybody dies. 

When I was four years old in the same year 
astronauts first walked on the dusty moon, 
I sat by the Christmas tree with my sister 
and cousins one cold Texas winter night, 
cheering our grandfather, the famous singer 
in the Kings Heralds, dressed as Santa Claus. 

Recognizing humorous gleam of his eyes, 
I concluded my grandfather is God, 
or Odin who bears bag of precious gifts 
to enrich all the people of the world 
with generous compassion of his heart, 
bringing food to people buried in snow. 

Twenty-five full years later I hitchhiked 
sea to shining sea across this vast land 
and played guitar Seattle to Miami, 
chanting tales about curious wanderers 
forever lost on signless road of hope 
ten thousand years Scythia to Oregon. 

Escaping cloistered walls of paradise, 
I journeyed back east along the same road 
my ancestors traveled west in wheeled wagons 
to colonize the fertile Promised Land, 
found my wife on the other side of Earth, 
and raise our children now in Dixieland. 

While mapping virtual model of the world, 
I wrote grand epic of philosophers 
that depicts foundation of Academia, 
and thus have learned true nature of my soul, 
Singer of Tales in Library of Angels, 
wingless angel in Land of Onatah. 


One Rainbow Family

One Rainbow Family
© Surazeus
2025 02 01

With startled eloquence of river song 
Juno dances gracefully in sea breeze 
with glow of love that enchants the wild throng 
till she fools God enough to steal his keys 
so she can free wise Son of Lucifer 
who can defeat cruel tyrant Jupiter. 

Eyes glowing bright with glow of the black hole, 
Juno weaves elaborate vision of faith 
so we can see Earth beam from the White Whole 
through dreamless spirit eye of the God Wraith 
whose conscious passion animates our brains 
so people drive their cars in righteous lanes. 

Heart pulsing with vibrant life of the Earth, 
Juno sings anthem of love on world stage 
that decodes secret process of rebirth 
to view our body as plane and not cage, 
for through force of free will we choose our fate, 
programming our actions with love not hate. 

Eager to save America from greed, 
Juno exposes crimes Midas commits 
when he attempts to control money feed 
that funds our national system of wits 
by grasping at illusion of our wealth 
in vain attempt to arrogate our health. 

Inspired by Brutus to protect the state, 
Juno leads holy warriors of truth 
to guard access to our financial gate 
till bold arrival of messiah sleuth 
who arrests the thief stealing from our hands 
treasure of freedom we mold from rich lands. 

Reluctant to accept his tyranny, 
Juno arms rebels with her holy cause 
to fight for justice through democracy 
that ensures liberty based on fair laws, 
but Midas and his minions clutch at power 
to control Rapunzel in her gold tower. 

With courage of Judith urging her heart, 
Juno wields honest sword Excalibur 
to render unto Caesar through star chart 
criminal conviction from Lucifer, 
then build from ruins of America 
new free Republic of Zarathia. 

Uniting states of North America, 
Juno enforces equal rights for all 
who live in fertile lands of Onatah 
with network of roads that destroy the Wall, 
so we become One Rainbow Family 
ruled fairly by wisdom of Liberty. 


Tree Of Voiceless Hope

Tree Of Voiceless Hope
© Surazeus
2025 02 01

Wounded by eccentric stars of desire, 
Claudia leaks shadows on the mountain trail 
where she wanders searching for her own ghost 
who leaves strange footprints in dust of the Earth, 
but pauses to ask rain why people die, 
scanning the sky for secret of rebirth. 

Weird constellations of stars slowly spin 
wheel of fortune that determines her fate 
according to old woman in the tree, 
so Claudia holds small nutshell in her hand 
and searches in vain for infinite space 
which Hamlet said with confidence is there. 

"I am no righteous daughter of the moon," 
Claudia whispers with iridescent wings, 
"though I was loyal bride to a good man, 
for I am lazy instrument of faith 
who covets water of this fractured globe 
which shakes while spinning in the starless void." 

Awake with wonder on the mountain slope, 
attempting to imagine ghosts are real, 
Claudia calculates process of desire 
to prove that stubbornness might get her killed, 
yet she adores blank beauty of her mask 
that hides the speaker of her soul from fools. 

With humble passion of obedient crows, 
who steal our voices from telephone lines, 
Claudia suddenly remembers quite clearly 
what she said to the man with the clenched fist 
twenty hours ago on the city street 
before she escaped through door of the wind. 

"Since freedom is another word," she laughs, 
"for nothing left to lose, as Janice sings 
with graveled voice of innocent despair, 
then I have lost everything I held dear 
when my husband was fired without good cause 
from his government job, and killed himself." 

"I want to become my own country now, 
like Kai sings with articulate respect," 
Claudia declares to the high waterfall 
that sprays tears on her cheeks she wants to hide, 
"but I have nothing in this world of lies 
so I would be this tree of voiceless hope." 

"Sacred stars of honest integrity 
that once sparkled on our star-spangled banner, 
pierce my heart with searing blades of disgust, 
so I want to become part of the Earth." 
After lying flat on the mountain all night, 
Claudia drives home on the desolate road. 


Enforce Rule Of Law

Enforce Rule Of Law
© Surazeus
2025 02 01

When gleam of dawn erases frantic dreams 
of running somewhere that ever recedes, 
Randall drinks coffee at the kitchen sink, 
and writes in condensation on the glass 
unspeakable name of God in four letters 
that refract light of the indifferent sun. 

When the long black van stops outside his home, 
and seven men wearing red baseball caps, 
whom he prosecuted through rule of law 
for crime of assaulting the Capitol, 
step out with baseball bats and hateful smirks, 
Randall cranks rod on his new assault rifle. 

When seven men smash his windows and doors, 
Randall prays his wife and children are safe 
where he sent them at horse ranch of his parents, 
then shoots each traitor dead in self-defense 
as they scream and attack him in revenge, 
then hopes home insurance covers the damage. 

Fired from the bureau of investigation 
where he performed his duties by the law 
with professional demeanor of respect, 
Randall ponders job prospects in the field 
of legal prosecution to arrest 
criminals who abuse good citizens. 

"Deceived by glamor of his policies 
to enforce rule of law across the land 
protecting our homeland security 
against illegal immigrants, I chose 
to vote for this man as our president 
who sent his goons to kill me in revenge." 

Before calling the police to report 
act of self-defense against home invaders 
sent by the new president in revenge, 
Randall washes blood from his honest hands, 
and chuckles as he quotes Lady Macbeth, 
"Out, blessed spot of vile traitorous blood." 

"Unnatural deeds breed unnatural troubles," 
Randall ponders as sirens of the law 
wail dire warnings in quiet neighborhoods, 
"for infected minds drive cruel brain-washed men 
to perform unlawful acts of sabotage 
against the liberty of honest men." 

Driving long gravel driveway to the ranch, 
Randall steps from his car on grassy lawn 
and breathes fresh air of justice with delight 
as his wife and children with joyful cries 
embrace him in group hug of pleased relief, 
and wind blows their hair as they cry and laugh. 


Friday, January 31, 2025

Eye Of Lost Time

Eye Of Lost Time
© Surazeus
2025 01 31

To see whole oceans in one water drop 
while on his journey of authority, 
Feraldus picks spot by the lake to stop 
and cup water with curiosity, 
but all he perceives in eye of lost time 
is dream of angels evolving from slime. 

Arriving at his cottage by the elm, 
where his rational wife Savia bakes pies, 
Feraldus studies nature of the helm 
that sailors spin to navigate the skies, 
then daydreams of his childhood as soft chimes 
of freedom ring for revolutionary times. 

Determined to measure state of the mind 
reflected in mirror of the Self Pool, 
Feraldus strides in boots Bacchus designed 
for exploring basement of the seer school 
where demons haunt the hearts of lonely souls 
who spend all afternoon outlining goals. 

Watching her husband tramp in fields of wheat, 
Savia calculates what our nation needs 
to overcome mute anguish of defeat 
is how the country farmer sows hope seeds, 
based on conceptual tropes of social roles 
when lovers dance around flowered maypoles. 

While eating apple pie and mint ice cream, 
Feraldus ponders strange state of the land. 
"Castles once protected the royal dream 
where people lived under one guiding hand, 
but cannons destroy walls of paradise 
so now failed kings must be the sacrifice." 

Hundreds of people escaping from war 
when their castle is smashed by cannon balls, 
crowd hungry and frightened around their door, 
so they welcome refugees in safe halls, 
and organize how they work on the farm, 
who sing praises of Savia for her charm. 

Kneeling before children on the lake shore, 
Feraldus cups dirt in his hands and grins. 
"We are but dust and shadow, Horace sang, 
but we see the world in one grain of sand, 
Blake countered, for we are atoms of light 
swerving in the void on our spirit flight." 

When Angel of Death in long black robe 
appears from flash of lightning on the hill, 
Savia runs and finds Feraldus dead, 
struck in the heart by arrow of free will, 
so she buries him under the pear tree 
where his atoms become crows who fly free. 


Wild Forest Boy

Wild Forest Boy
© Surazeus
2025 01 31

When finches and sparrows in maple trees 
explain strange beauty of eternity, 
Caroline pauses somewhere off the trail 
to pick liberty cap mushroom from soil 
wet from late-afternoon rain of desire 
where the pond terrapin crawls over roots. 

Brushing pile of wet pine cones to the side, 
Caroline gasps to see wild forest boy 
who stares at her with eyes blue as the sea, 
so she reaches out her hand with lace glove 
and helps him stand on wobbly legs of hope, 
then smiles and asks, "What is your secret name?" 

"My name is Pinocchio," the wild boy grins, 
then does the fancy two-step dance and bows, 
but topples over on his side again, 
so she helps him stand again on frail legs, 
then places ripe pear in his floppy hand, 
so he eats till he gains strength from its juice. 

"I feel harsh winds of autumn blow cold fear 
so I must follow leaves along the river, 
blown anywhere my heart may long to go, 
but I lay frozen in beautiful snow 
for mindless flicker of eternity." 
Pinocchio stares with no tears in his eyes. 

Taken aback by his strange sudden song, 
Caroline turns away to find the trail, 
but the small wooden boy grasps at her skirt, 
and follows stumbling as she strides away, 
so she lifts him on her hip with soft grin, 
and walks in evening breeze that blows her hair. 

"Afloat in timeless beauty of this hour," 
Pinocchio sings like twitter of the finch, 
"we seek strange wisdom in the holy flower 
that blooms from corpse of God in dreamless rain 
till blossoms of dead trees have blown away, 
and we are mute with words we fear to say." 

Stepping through door in her cottage of stone, 
nestled against steep hillside by the lake, 
Caroline sets the boy beside the table, 
but when she turns he grabs the cutting knife 
and pushes her down to tear off her dress, 
and she lies stunned in shock flat on her back. 

When he gasps done and rolls onto his back, 
Caroline leaps up and tries to escape, 
but he drags her back, so she kicks him hard, 
which hurls him stumbling in the hot hearth fire 
where he writhes screaming in fierce roar of flames 
till he vanishes into pile of ash. 

Pregnant with child of the wild forest boy, 
Caroline cautiously hunts in the woods 
each day for mushrooms, berries, eggs, and nuts, 
but nothing sinister lurks in the shadows, 
so she sits by the sparkling creek and cries 
while something strange transforms inside her womb. 

When she births son of the wild forest boy 
Caroline bears him in her trembling arms 
as she wades into the lake with intent 
to drown him in the waters of salvation, 
but he gazes at her with silver eyes, 
so she baptizes him and names him Charles. 


Mindless God Eye

Mindless God Eye
© Surazeus
2025 01 31

Reluctant to acknowledge why Death laughs 
at fragile humans focused on their craft 
to create meaning from goops of soft mud, 
I build enormous castle of baked bricks 
to shelter refugees from mindless storm 
so we can sing love songs during the war. 

Confused by laughter of the river snake 
at serious intent of obedient folk 
to praise the warm sun for rising again, 
I bend steamed boards of wood with humble chant 
to build hull of my world-exploring ship 
so we can sail across abyss of hope. 

Disturbed by laughter of the apple tree 
at pious prayers of people traumatized 
by bombs depuzzling everything they love, 
I gather seeds from ruins of the church 
to plant herbs of compassion in the grave 
where corpse of god rots into wriggling worms. 

Excited by laughter of joyous goats 
who prance in meadow of camellias 
that blossom from cracked skulls of warriors, 
I gather lost souls on the signless road 
to form community of honest folk 
who help each other survive bitter days. 

Denied my civil rights to freely laugh 
at how I lose myself to find myself 
by hoarding syllables of naked thought, 
I choose to endure starvation of faith 
that sharpens sensations of ecstasy 
from which I spring to dance in tears of rain. 

Confounded by laughter of hope for love 
through mystic monolog of desert streams 
where thirsty angels crawl on hands and knees, 
I map every road that leads to my heart 
which is not center of the universe 
where mindless God Eye dreams itself in me. 

Concealed by veil of mist on Lone Tree Hill 
that laughs at haughty pride of the Moon Wolf 
who operates book shop on the ocean cliff, 
I write with blood of angels in blank book 
chronicle of my destiny I choose 
by swerving randomly on road of life. 

Erased by laughter of the empty sky 
at how immortal soul of genes designs 
this mortal body of my present life, 
I cannot see which face I wear today 
when I gaze in mirror of the forest pool 
till I fall and drown in my memories. 


Fall Of King Joculus

Fall Of King Joculus
© Surazeus
2025 01 31

With toot of horn and cackle of wild jest 
King Joculus arrives in Washington 
to trample on the blood-stained flag of pride 
and then defund your private psychic quest 
to map the multiverse for everyone 
who bears conceptual treasure they must hide. 

Tattooed with mental sigils of regret, 
King Joculus stands on the mountain top 
to chat with demon in the burning bush 
about how to reprogram our mindset 
so everyone believes that he is God 
though he scams his followers of their cash. 

Daring Jesus to play Russian roulette, 
King Joculus then swipes his Crown of Thorns 
and proclaims himself by legal command 
to be messiah of the alphabet, 
but Joshua suggests that we blow our horns 
which blows walls of his fortress into sand. 

Presiding over jousting tournament, 
King Joculus delights when bold knights clash 
in brutal combat to enforce his word 
as national law without precedent 
while tossing our Bill of Rights in the trash 
before he tries to shoot the mocking bird. 

Rewriting history of our nation-state 
so fake fables may glorify his deeds, 
King Joculus burns books of heretics 
who dare expose true nature of his fate 
when he demands we recite his false creeds 
because too many are fooled by his tricks. 

Aggrieved that prophet of the singing whale 
reveals corrupt state of his character, 
King Joculus hangs him on the phone pole 
to hide the fact his efforts always fail 
for he is more Bacchus than Jupiter, 
pretending tyranny is not his goal. 

Drunk on raw power as proud Head of State, 
King Joculus blames everything gone wrong 
on diverse persons opposed to his rule, 
but he cannot evade his tragic fate 
like Saddam and Muammar caught by the throng, 
though we realize he is Plutonian tool. 

After crushing everything we hold dear, 
King Joculus cannot escape his fall 
since tyranny is too hard to enforce 
for longer than apocalypse of fear, 
because Justice and Liberty for all 
will prevail through universal discourse. 


Thursday, January 30, 2025

State Of White Privilege

State Of White Privilege
© Surazeus
2025 01 30

The white horse of social analysis 
gallops across the plain of singing ghosts 
so Hercules wrestles river of snakes 
to cleanse the American halls of power 
swamped by the greed of oligarchic clowns 
who steal keys to the kingdom from dead Christ. 

The white horse of conceptual innuendo 
likes to turn humans on to the starlight 
so we are awed by mystery of the Eye 
that always seems to watch us from the sky 
till we reverse the mask we choose to wear 
as mirror that reflects psychology. 

The white horse of the psychic manifesto 
presents the moon goddess in Silver Cloud, 
her starship she flies over city maze 
to beam up holy warriors of the heart 
who join her justice squad to fight the power 
that legislates regressive policies. 

The white horse of mental paralysis 
deals cards on the gambling table of faith 
to cheat the clown who thinks he owns the world 
by prancing on the stage with childish glee, 
distracting us so he can steal the key 
that opens pearly gates of paradise. 

The white horse from the lake of Tantalus 
gives fruit he stole from sacred Tree of Life 
to everyone who walks the signless road 
on quest to find the Ring of Zathamar 
which gives the bearer weird ability 
to perceive the whole flow of history. 

The white horse of the Queen of Mexico 
who tours along the Mississippi River 
describes how Mercury designed the lyre 
from rib cage of the haughty dinosaur 
who signs executive orders all day 
while helicopters and airplanes collide. 

The white horse of the golden piccolo, 
prancing down Champs-Elysees Avenue, 
considers why the theater is dead 
though Brecht and Ibsen live inside our head 
with tales of haunted heroines who fight 
for right to control their reproductive choices. 

The white horse of oneiric calculus 
casts wicked spell of multicultural rites 
which we gather at witching hour of night 
to perform against regime of King Midas 
whose greedy touch turns everything to junk 
that bankrupts the state of white privilege. 


Barons Of False Wealth

Barons Of False Wealth
© Surazeus
2025 01 30

"Old sun is not our pineapple of love," 
Garsenda sings while strumming taut lute strings, 
"yet when I gaze at blankness of Blue Sky 
I have to wonder why I feel no fear 
that Death possesses people everywhere 
though no one knows the answer except God." 

"I slip into the future of my mind," 
Garsenda tells small turtle in the rain, 
"so I can be in two places at once, 
because in land of arrogance and hate 
humility and kindness are the way 
we find our way to light of paradise." 

"With heartless ache of psychic agony," 
Garsenda whispers to the rolling stone, 
"I name dark beasts of social tyranny 
who eat the bread and drink the wine of faith 
so we who work are left with nothing real 
except gold idol of our Angry God." 

"Through passionate trust in the Evermore," 
Garsenda weeps beneath the willow tree, 
"my heart enwombs the savior of the world 
who bears book of the covenant with grace 
till mob of minions by the tyrant paid 
dare crucify King of the World at dawn." 

"Based on remorse for holy word of law," 
Garsenda shouts at divine hurricane, 
"I shrive cold anguish of the Eucharist 
to resurrect from death the anarchist 
who wrestles river from traditioned course 
to flush revolting barons of false wealth." 

"Now we shall raze all icons to the ground," 
Garsenda howls with laughter of the owl, 
"so we can build religion based on truth 
that we are atoms swerving in the void 
who incarnate immortal soul of genes 
in bodies of our children till we die." 

"So wake the scourger from tomb of despair," 
Garsenda preaches to the hungry choir, 
"who slits the throat of tyranny with hope 
that we can find in trash of fatal art 
arcane code to calculate the dream chart 
that leads us to the holy land of birth." 

"These lies I carve on Tablets of the Law," 
Garsenda croons to crowd of dancing lovers, 
"corrupt our mental programs with weird thoughts 
that everyone is equal in the law 
and no one should apply their privilege 
to lock the gates of paradise to all." 


Sea-Eyed Child Of Cetus

Sea-Eyed Child Of Cetus
© Surazeus
2025 01 30

Soft silver laughter of the waterfall 
washes regret of passion from her mind 
when Andromeda stretches on the rock 
with ache of loneliness to feel warm kiss 
of sunlight spark her heart to open wide 
and receive faithful whisper of the wind. 

Rising from depths of the sorrowful sea, 
Cetus shakes water off long tangled hair 
and strides across broad beach of pungent sand 
to show Andromeda large fish he caught, 
who blushes as she gazes in his eyes, 
then roasts it over fire she tends with care. 

Grasping twisted branch of the olive tree, 
Andromeda screams in heart-wrenching pain 
as she gives birth to sea-eyed child of Cetus 
who wriggles in his arms and cries aloud 
with roar of ocean waves whipped by wild wind, 
then cradles him beaming smile of joy. 

Cooing as she breastfeeds their new-born son, 
Andromeda gazes entranced with love 
in large eyes with green surrounded by blue 
like the island surrounded by the sea, 
so she names her child Nereus to honor 
her grandfather born from Pontus and Gaia. 

While Andromeda lounges in large cave, 
teaching Nereus how to express words 
that signify objects our eyes perceive, 
Cetus attacks sea monster with long neck, 
then roasts its meat on flat-type pyramid 
and wears dragon skull on his head as crown. 

While people dance around small pyramid 
to drink and sing with joyful reverie, 
Perseus appears with long wind-blown cape 
and declares with aggressive voice of pride 
he will marry Andromeda as wife 
and crown her queen to rule his olive farm. 

Twirling trident as he laughs with contempt, 
Cetus battles Perseus on the beach 
who cracks his skull with dominating blow 
because his brass wand with emerald tip 
breaks iron trident with contemptuous strikes, 
then howls in victory over corpse of Cetus. 

While Perseus drags Andromeda away, 
binding her hands tight with possessive rope, 
she weeps and calls out to her little son, 
so Nereus stands small among shocked crowd 
and cries with anguish for her to come back, 
then runs down to the sea to catch some fish. 


Justice Through The Law

Justice Through The Law
© Surazeus
2025 01 30

Standing before journalists with cameras 
on heightened steps before the House of Power, 
the Revolutionary Leader smiles 
to announce his surrender to the law 
since he succeeded in his noble goal 
to restore progress of democracy. 

Now that the tyrant has been overthrown, 
and democracy restored to our state, 
I declare the purpose of government 
is to protect individual citizens 
against all exploitation and abuse, 
not to assist business exploiting the people. 

Inspired by this principle of respect 
focused on funding programs that support 
the People to pursue their happiness, 
I lead this justice squad of honest men 
to remove the evil tyrant from power 
through necessary exertion of force. 

Contrary to this noble principle 
which should animate our democracy, 
this greedy businessman had seized control 
by suppressing votes that chose his opponent, 
and tried to impose fascist oligarchy 
that centralized control in his small hands. 

Compelled by necessity of armed force 
to answer clarion call of history, 
because the federal law failed to obstruct 
his fascist coup against our government, 
I lead this justice squad of honest men 
to remove this foul cancer from our land. 

Today I have removed cruel tyranny 
by exercising right of common men 
to arrest greedy oligarchic tyrants 
and restore function of our government, 
based on established precedent of right, 
to the legal successor to take power. 

The ancient law of power would allow 
the one who removes the king to be king, 
but I refuse to seize the crown of state 
for I would become the tyrant I removed, 
so, since the legal successor to power 
has been sworn in, I submit to the law. 

Though I had to fight to remove the tyrant, 
I had exercised violence to achieve 
this aim of preserving democracy, 
so you must now arrest me with respect, 
and sentence me with justice through the law, 
for I sacrificed myself to save our state. 


Wednesday, January 29, 2025

Dancing By The Lake

Dancing By The Lake
© Surazeus
2025 01 29

Through golden absolute of singing stars 
that weave our brains from pure atomic light, 
Anita paints conceptual platitudes 
as rugged mountain range that writhes with trees 
of graceful flames which dance in ecstasy 
while river current undulates blue eyes. 

Adjusting eye-phone in extended hands, 
Anita films while her best friend forever 
Shahida dances cutely in short skirt 
while singing with her favorite romance song 
about her unrequited love for Mike 
who pretends not to notice as she flirts. 

Giggling as they review her video, 
Shahida and Anita discuss how 
they can improve her choreographic style, 
then sip icecream floats with artistic pride 
as they watch count of views and likes increase 
when they load it on her tiktok account. 

Skipping together on the market street, 
they squeal pleased at its popularity, 
amazed so many people in the world 
express effusive praise of admiration 
for graceful style she performs with elan, 
then embrace and cry as they bid farewell. 

Annoyed she must leave land where she was born, 
Shahida gripes on plane to Pakistan 
that she was born and raised in Arkansas, 
then pouts when her father with cold stern voice 
demands that she obey Islamic law 
and behave with calm demure modesty. 

Feeling imprisoned in home of his birth, 
Shahida chafes against authority 
her father asserts with masculine pride, 
so she sips out and visits city park 
where she films herself dancing by the lake 
in sync with her favorite Taylor Swift song. 

Walking home as she gazes at her phone, 
excited by the many views and likes 
her dance video elicits from admirers, 
Shahida stumbles startled, and stops shocked 
when shadow of her angry father looms, 
and cries surprised when he shoots at her heart. 

"You are my father who created me 
and cherished me with love since I was small, 
allowing me to live free as I wish, 
so how could you eradicate my life 
to assuage your precious masculine ego 
fragile with toxic weakness of false pride?" 


Find Each Other Again

Find Each Other Again
© Surazeus
2025 01 29

Raising her hand with sudden flash of joy, 
Leudrada grasps when snow falls on her hair, 
shaken loose from pine limbs by the dark crow 
that glows as shadow in the sun-bright day, 
then grins amused when it flutters away, 
and caws at beauty of the frosted world. 

While cutting tufts of grass from snowy bank 
to feed his horse that had to walk all day, 
Answardus pauses with shock of surprise 
to hear sweet laughter echo in the woods, 
so he advances toward the fair voice, 
enchanted by perfection of her song. 

Answardus pauses while Leudrada sings. 
"When pale Phoebus glows in the eastern sky 
Aurora sheds ethereal light on Earth, 
so sunlight glitters on swollen sea waves 
as shadows flicker on the snowed hillslope." 
At sudden crack of twigs she twirls around. 

Blushing when the elegant blonde-haired girl 
stares at him fiercely with ice-morning eyes, 
Answardus steps forward with bold impulse 
and offers jar of pear wine he had brewed. 
"Accept gift of wine as apology 
for intruding on your calm solitude." 

Swiping jar from his hand with charming smirk, 
Leudrada drinks pear wine with gusty laugh, 
then grabs his hands and curtsies as he bows, 
so they perform the lively almain dance 
with graceful prance around tall stately pine, 
then laugh and smile as they exchange their names. 

"Though we just met on journeys of our lives," 
Leudrada squints at him with curious grin, 
"I feel connection bond our separate hearts 
to flash our strangeness with familiar glow 
as if we met each other long ago 
and spent years to find each other again." 

"My quick heart mirrors feelings you express 
and share your sense of familiar respect," 
Answardus replies while feeding his horse, 
"so I pledge troth of strong fidelity 
to honor you with loyalty of love, 
surmounting obstacles to marry you." 

Holding hands with new confident resolve, 
Leudrada and Answardus stride to town, 
discussing steps to formalize their love, 
then they pause and glance up into the pine 
to see the crow that brushed snow on her hair 
gazing at them with sparkle in her eyes. 


Forge Dream Keys

Forge Dream Keys
© Surazeus
2025 01 29

To forge dream keys that open doors of time, 
Gardwinus garden-friend digs rocks from cave, 
hauls minerals in two-wheeled wagon of hope, 
and melts them to liquid state with hot fire 
which he pours in clay molds of psychic faith, 
then cools conceptual curls in magic keys. 

Inserting Mirror Key in Door of Truth, 
Gardwinus grasps Pen of Authority 
firm in Oval Office of the White House, 
and signs into law compassionate bills 
that support women who raise children well 
to create not destroy in game of life. 

Inserting Shadow Key in Door of Lies, 
Gardwinus twirls gem-eyed Wand of Zambor 
to battle Serpent King with rainbow wings 
whose Plutonian mask hides his hateful lust, 
then chases Midas out of the White House 
where he grovels afraid in the waste land. 

Inserting Mending Key in Door of Pain, 
Gardwinus draws water from Odin Well 
to brew healing potions with herbs of love 
in faith-bubbling cauldron of Ceridwen 
who tends wounded refugees from cruel war 
so they can return to their bomb-out homes. 

Inserting Echo Key in Door of Thought, 
Gardwinus opens Book of Names and Deeds 
to record regime characters of men 
chosen by fate to perform role of Leader, 
whether they exploit people for their gain 
or help people develop their skill-set. 

Inserting Nowhere Key in Door of Grace, 
Gardwinus leaps the multiverse of worlds 
to weave all iterations of the Self 
in whole complexion of his divine mind 
that binds his heart to spinning globe of growth 
where humans multiply from one First Mother. 

Inserting Timeshift Key in Door of Birth, 
Gardwinus drives swift piston-engine car 
on signless road of social energy 
through ever-expanding maze of world myths 
till he arrives home in his neighborhood 
where his wife and kids embrace him with joy. 

To forge dream keys of psychic energy 
from memories inside bones of our ancestors, 
Gardwinus garden-friend tends Tree of Life 
and Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil 
that grow behind his house on river shore 
where his children play free in paradise. 


Phoenix Of Zarathia

Phoenix Of Zarathia
© Surazeus
2025 01 29

"After Midas destroys America," 
shouts Cassandra on the busy street corner, 
"we, the people, with freedom in our hearts, 
will build new nation of Zarathia 
based on justice and liberty for all." 
Everyone ignores the prophet in fear. 

"Before the Phoenix of Zarathia 
can rise from ruins of America," 
Cassandra weeps alone on river shore, 
"cruel tyrant will destroy all we hold dear 
when that son of the Scottish immigrant 
drives brown immigrants back to Mexico." 

"Where can I hide from goons of tyranny 
in Eden Garden of Serenity?" 
Cassandra whispers to the old blind crow, 
who drops red mushroom in her open hand, 
then flaps wings of desolation to perch 
indifferent on silent telephone lines. 

Clutching her broken guitar in despair, 
Cassandra hides in narrow alleyway. 
"I see terrible vision on the wall 
that shows the white towers of Ilium 
burning when the violent mob attacks 
to storm the citadel of righteousness." 

"If we allow Golden Boy to return, 
his father, who appointed himself king 
when he stormed grand halls of power with greed, 
will crown his son successor to his reign, 
then cast the angels who oppose his rule 
from Heaven when he fires them without cause." 

Taking his dazed girlfriend Cassandra home, 
Jake lies beside her in bed at midnight 
and wonders at the vision she describes. 
"So God and Lucifer in your weird tale 
stormed Heaven in revolt against King El, 
and then God crowned his son succeeding king?" 

"And in this religious myth of the past 
you see the present political state 
where the current president crowns himself 
monarch of the land, then fires rebel angels?" 
Jake grins when mute Cassandra nods her head 
with eyes wide from her visions of disaster. 

"Though his greed destroys our democracy 
to install oligarchy of the rich, 
like Ozymandias he will fall from pride 
when Sisyphus smashes idol with clay feet, 
and we will found new world of liberty 
through United States of Zarathia." 


Tuesday, January 28, 2025

America Singing Proud

America Singing Proud
© Surazeus
2025 01 28

"I can no longer hear," Cassandra gasps 
in fake shock, "America singing proud 
of its great democracy in the world 
in varied carols of the common folk 
with mouths closed against sad sarcastic songs." 
Winking, she puffs short cigarette and laughs. 

Twanging electric guitar on bar stage, 
Jake Kalinsky howls in the microphone. 
"I sing with voice of wild rebellious clown 
who tried to save Ophelia when she drowned 
though she was bitten by the Eden snake 
because we know how rich people are fake." 

Drinking old beer by the alleyway door, 
Cassandra and Jake talk about the ghost 
who haunts dark shadows of the open mind, 
then go back inside crowded smoky bar 
to scream another song into the void 
while everyone jumps up and down and screams. 

The mechanic shivers in the cold night, 
the carpenter hides from immigrant agents, 
the mason growls for contract work unpaid, 
the boatman drives the rumbling garbage truck, 
the shoemaker in China cuts her hand, 
and the mother cries for her autistic child. 

The programmer codes for seven days straight, 
the accountant conceals embezzlement, 
the stock broker scams eager amateurs, 
the marketer obfuscates product flaws, 
the hacker steals private medical data, 
and the senator hawks bribe-funded bills. 

"I can no longer hear America 
singing beautiful carols of their hearts," 
Cassandra sings with melancholy tune, 
"for every noble principle of law 
they trusted to enforce justice for all 
has been betrayed by greedy oligarchs." 

Five drunken frat boys on the football team 
throw beer bottles at Cassandra on stage, 
shouting, "How dare you insult our messiah, 
you evil woke witch lesbian liberal whore." 
Jake and his band of punk rockers attack 
and violent brawl spills out onto the street. 

After the police arrest everyone, 
Cassandra slouches in the empty bar 
and cries while clutching her broken guitar, 
then walks home alone in early dawn light 
where flags at half mast honor with sad sighs 
death of the last great honest president.